Way way way beyond my heat capacity, even in the days when I lived on Bangalore Phals, but the story about the need for a sudden "about turn", and the ever-increasing pace as the loo beckoned ring true -- at some point in my late teens/early twenties I developed IBS, which would manifest itself about 15 minutes after finishing a good Chinese meal in the Lotus Inn, Chislehurst. Unfortunately 15 minutes was only half-way home, and at the top of White Horse Hill I would bid my friends and fellow-diners "goodnight", and set off down White Horse Hill at a steady trot. At Beanshaw, this would lengthen into a canter, and by the start of The Course it would be a full-blown gallop. Trousers would be unfastened at the same time as the front door, and an almighty dash the length of the hall would then ensue; there was rarely if ever time to close the loo door. Fortunately (thank G@d !) disaster never actually struck, but I am certain it was rarely more than half a second away. I still get struck in the same way from time to time, but at least it is no longer a regular Saturday night experience.
** Phil.